Tesco [6]

The whole time Mary Grace recounted her sorrowful tale, Jack maintained a solemn silence, attentively listening to every word.

After Mary shared a few stories from her childhood, Jack turned his gaze towards Tesco and uttered with a fiery determination, "Ye don't deserve a mere bullet. Nay, ye deserve a whole cannonball to be shot right into yer forehead."

He continued, his voice filled with righteous anger, "And once yer lifeless, another cannonball should be sent hurtlin' towards yer wretched body."

Tesco, indifferent to his daughter's narrative and Jack's words, sat cross-legged on the ground, his eyes closed as he hummed to himself.

As Mary recounted her painful experiences, she kept her silence, reliving each haunting scene within the depths of her thoughts. A longing for spirits, even fleeting respite, permeated her mind.

Jack broke the silence, his concern evident in his voice, "Mary, can ye continue?"

Mary's gaze shifted upward and then downward as she replied, "It matters not, Captain."

"But it does matter, me heartie. I be yer captain, and I care deeply for ye. If ye be wishin' it, I'll be takin' his life with me own hands."

"Nay, Captain, there be no need. He be facin' his own demise come the morrow. Forget about him."

"Very well, but can ye share the tale of how ye shot him in the forehead? I had no idea I had such a swashbucklin' crewmate."

"Aye, Captain. I shall oblige."

...

FLASHBACK 15 years ago (age 7):

As the night wore on, the room grew darker, and Mary had already endured the unspeakable acts forced upon her by numerous clients. The sordid affair came to an end as there were no more patrons left to satisfy their wicked desires.

Her arms bore the marks of abuse, adorned with bruises and cut wounds. Her eyes, hollow and lifeless, were surrounded by black bags, betraying the torment she endured.

Her once lustrous medium-dark blue hair now appeared disheveled, with patches missing, a testament to the hardships she faced.

In this macabre scene, Tesco entered the room, clutching a leather pouch, and greeted her, "Avast. How be ye faring, ye wretched lass?"

Mary remained silent, her gaze fixated on nothing in particular, her spirit broken.

With a sense of greed, Tesco emptied the pouch, counting the gold coins upon the wooden table. Satisfied, he muttered to himself, "38 gold coins, not bad."

He pondered upon the grim reality of a year ago when she just started working as a wench, failing to bring in substantial riches for his greedy grasp.

One reason was her fiery spirit, as she resisted the advances of scoundrel men. Another reason was her lack of a known name, unlike those deceitful sirens who had mastered the art of manipulation and garnered fame as notorious harlots.

These so-called professionals possessed a doll-like appearance, devoid of emotions, moving like soulless zombies through their despicable transactions.

In a feeble, broken voice, Mary finally spoke, her pain evident, "Pap-Tesco, it hurts..."

Tesco glanced at her with a heartless sneer, his words dripping with greed and indifference, "Bah, ye'll get used to it, lass. It's been but a year since ye started this miserable life."

Challenging him, Mary taunted Tesco with a hand signal, beckoning him closer, and whispered, "Can ye take a look, pa-Tesco? There be something red."

Despite her young age of 7, Mary had learned enough from her horrid life to take control and seek her escape in a calculated act of retribution.

Concerned about the potential consequences of diseases transmitted through such encounters, Tesco hurriedly removed Mary's silk dress, focusing his gaze on the area of concern.

"There be naught red here, lass. If this be yer feeble attempt to shirk yer duties, I'll give ye a thrashing," Tesco sneered with a vile grin.

Seizing the moment, Mary's hand stealthily reached for the stolen pistol she had concealed, her grip firm and ready. "Papa, look closer. I'm not lying," she whispered.

Tesco leaned in, oblivious to the imminent danger, and Mary prepared to deliver her own brand of justice.

After what felt like an eternity, Tesco proclaimed with a venomous sneer, "There be naught here, ye deceitful wench, spawn of a hellish bitch!" His head held high in a display of wicked arrogance.

BAM!

Mary's shot rang out, the bullet finding its mark, striking Tesco directly in the forehead.

His eyes widened with pain, his screams stifled, and within moments, his body collapsed onto Mary.

Overwhelmed with a mix of emotions, Mary's tears flowed freely as she cried out, her anguished screams echoing through the room.

Eventually, she gathered herself and, driven by survival instinct, she moved Tesco's head aside, seizing the opportunity to claim the ill-gotten gold.

...

When Mary finished recounting her harrowing memory, Jack nodded solemnly and turned to face Tesco. "Even the foulest scallywag wouldn't be puttin' their own daughter through such horrors, I reckon. And fer what? To gather enough gold to buy a ship and assemble a crew? 'Tis all for yer own selfish gain, ye scurvy dog."

He continued, his voice filled with disdain, "Even pirates have a code, a sense of decency and honor. But ye, Tesco, ye don't deserve to call yerself a pirate, let alone a captain."

Mary, who had overheard their exchange, felt a surge of gratitude towards Jack. Captain... He be standin' up for me, she thought.

When she first joined Jack on his adventures, she had been wary and skeptical of him. After all, she had experienced betrayal and mistreatment from previous crews. But as she embarked on more journeys with Jack, she saw his true character - easygoing yet dependable. And now, her admiration for him had grown even stronger.

Tesco, unable to bear the weight of Jack's words, stood up and approached the bar, facing Jack directly. "I did what I had to do," he said, devoid of any remorse.

In response, Jack spat in Tesco's face, his voice drippin' with contempt. "Nay, ye did what ye wanted to do. Yer greed surpasses even me own. When yer ship sank and ye lost yer crew, ye had the opportunity to lead a normal life and provide fer yerself and Mary. But nay, ye just had to make her suffer and degrade her."

Tesco wiped off the spit from his face, his expression void of emotion. "Ye talk too much," he retorted, returning to his spot and hoping to find solace in sleep.

Mary couldn't contain her rage any longer and shouted, "At least ye'll meet yer end tomorrow, ye despicable piece of shit. I don't care if Jack and me perish alongside ye, as long as ye're finally dead."